


The Obligatory Virgin/Dragon Story

by Anihan (Nakagami)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dragon Eggs, Dragon John, Hydra Lestrade, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakagami/pseuds/Anihan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet I wrote this morning between 2am and 2:25am. </p><p>Dragon John tries to show his new mate Sherlock their brood, the dragon eggs set to hatch in a few weeks. Sherlock can't stand the heat and passes out, so John (like a good husband) takes him to the dragon's home village to recover. </p><p>This is when Mycroft finds him there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Obligatory Virgin/Dragon Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kinah_Jala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinah_Jala/gifts).



_We hatch from nothing,_ the dragon declared, _and as if in demonstration the air between them cracked, split right through at an angle and the essence of living earth creaked through. It burned, even at this distance, like magma just reaching the surface, superheating the air.  
_

Sherlock sucked in air like an asthmatic and sat up in bed, sweating like an athlete mid-workout. The perspiration did not desist once his location and safety were ascertained; neither did his respiration ease. Breath hissed between his teeth despite the way his mouth was wide open; oxygen couldn't enter or leave fast enough, he--

Dragons mate for life, John had said. For the life of the mate. This dragon had given him a choice and, for the boundless entertainment it promised, Sherlock had taken it.

And yet.

And yet here he was in John's home village, sat upon three barrels with a blanket atop them for a bed. He had cricks in three places down his spine and he was downright shivering every time he even thought about the weather in this godforsaken place, and--

"Sherlock? Sherlock, is it really-- Are you awake?"

Mycroft.

Sherlock reeled again. Oxygen, once sparse, was now negligible. _Six years,_ he thought, _six years dodging his spies and now..._

"It truly is you," the two-centimeter and seven years taller man remarked upon entry to the hut. He looked a bit sunburnt on both cheeks and neck. "I had hoped it was but the reports were not forthcoming, and I seem to have ceased having any companions of note that remember your face."

Aka: You've been so forgotten even the servants have stopped talking about you.

 _Thank god_ , Sherlock breathed.

"This dragon business is the first notice we've had of your presence in months. Sloppy, that. If you hadn't meant to advertise your virginity, that is."

Pale cheeks turned crimson.

"The dragon, however, has been subdued," Mycroft continued, and at this Sherlock felt his first instance of a protest.

"Did you come here just to kill _my_ dragon?"

An elegant brow lifted, not that Sherlock was looking. "I didn't say kill. Or even defeated. 'Your' dragon is fine. Once he was assured - you did realize it was a male, correct? Making advertising your virginity particularly damning - that you were unharmed and in the possession of family, he calmed right down and allowed us to harness him.

"Not that a harness does any good, mind, but it does make the stablehands settle down. Your dragon seems to have taken a liking to them, also. I dare say he seems well trained. If you had been in this town more than a week I would have suspected your own hand at that, but I think not even you could tame a beast in four days. How did you find this one, brother dear?"

"Ad," he croaked. "In the newspaper."

Mycroft gave a stiff smile.

"May I see him?" he added.

"Are we going to get a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

"Maybe. Yes. No. The month, more like."

For just a second, Mycroft looked horrified.

Sherlock flashed a grin but took pity on him. "His brood, the eggs. They're going to hatch soon." From right out of thin air. Teleportation. Telepathy. Sherlock could hardly breathe through the excitement.

He was so giddy he glowed.

The man allowed his younger brother a moment to compose himself. Sherlock spent it beaming at the open air.

"I expect to meet them at Christmas," Mycroft said at last. He had to hide a fond smile. 

Sherlock snapped back to attention. His razor gaze took in his brother; recent weight loss, fuller hair, rosy cheeks; and let a salacious grin flicker over his face before smoothing it into innocence. "Oh, of course. And how _is_ your pet hydra doing these days?"

The ginger went red.


End file.
